


We Were Like Heroes

by oldfarmermaggot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:34:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldfarmermaggot/pseuds/oldfarmermaggot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't tell what's real anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Like Heroes

Sometimes I'm not really sure anymore. I can't tell if what I'm seeing is real, or just in my head. When I was young, I was told many stories about fairies and saints. I was told to believe, and they'd come. They would appear before my very eyes. So I did, I believed. I believed in the saints and the fairies, and was rewarded for my loyalty with gifts and currency. As it turned out, none of it was real.  
Two years ago, I met a man. A very, very strange man. He was tall, slender, and had very cold eyes. He was intimidating, but menacing somehow. I think I fell in love with him, but I'm not really sure what that is.  
He was really smart, annoyingly so. Sometimes I just wanted to punch him, and I'm absolutely sure I wasn't the only one. In the beginning, when we first met, I thought he was an inconsiderate jerk, which he is, but it's changed. He's changed. He'd always talk to people like they were absolutely idiotic. Like he's obviously the smartest person alive, and no one in our close proximity could even compare to his massive intellect. Which is probably true, damn him. But as we grew closer, he started talking to me as if I knew. I didn't realize this, and thought he was making fun of me, but when I mentioned my inability to keep up, he seemed genuinely surprised.  
He was a kind of mad man. Always running off everywhere, talking about murders and mysteries. That is what most made me question his existence. The murders. He was a crime solver, but not the kind with a badge and a gun. He asked me for help many times, though I'm convinced it was to ease his loneliness rather than my actual usefulness. It was crazy. Surreal. None of it could have possibly happened. But still, I see these articles. I see my name, and his. My mind is thorough, but to convince me of these lies would seem an awful lot of trouble for nothing. Unless of course, they aren't lies.  
We fought together. We were like heroes, we even had a nemesis. It all seems so surreal now, but I guess it doesn't really matter. Wether he was real or not, he's gone now.  
It's strange imagining him as a person. Humanizing him, so to speak. I didn't see him as someone who'd feel. Who'd get offended if you'd insult their culinary skills, or lack thereof. So when I saw him glaring out the window, with an almost nostalgic sense of sadness, I was terrified. I thought the world must be ending, for this man to show any kind of emotion. But then I realized. This man, the man I'd come to know as my best friend, was closed. He never showed any real emotion. Nothing that would compromise the world's view on him as a heartless, cold bastard. He couldn't afford to be seen as human, so he rid himself of as much emotion as he could. Learning to despise it, and see it as a weakness. Human error. But he showed me. At the time, I thought it was incidental. I thought maybe he couldn't hide it anymore, but I was wrong. He was my best friend, and I was his, and he showed me. He showed me. I think that's when I fell in love, though I'm not really sure what that is.  
I don't remember what happened. I don't think I saw it, though I was told I did. All I know is he's gone. I read it in the papers, so it must be true. I held the funeral, I saw his name in the obituaries, I went to his grave. He's gone. But sometimes I'm not really sure anymore. I can't tell if what I'm seeing is real, or just in my head. When I was young, I was told many stories about fairies and saints. I was told to believe, and they'd come. They would appear before my very eyes. So I did, I believed. I believed in the saints and fairies, and the mad, tall, intimidating man, and I was rewarded for my loyalty with gifts, currency, and his menacing presence. As it turned out, none of it was real.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure that this has been done before but whatever :d I just got ommwriter and this came out and it's alright I think.  
> After Reichenbach, before series 3.


End file.
